


Sometimes You Want to Get Higher

by NeverSatisfiedGirl (Kalli_Ravenne)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Kissing in the Rain, Magic, Mild Smut, Minor Original Character(s), Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalli_Ravenne/pseuds/NeverSatisfiedGirl
Summary: Yup, Sam had it bad and that ain’t good, especially in a hunter’s lifestyle. Though in his defense, he hasn't made a move out of respect for you. But a curious storm might be the thing to draw him in.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Hello hello! Here is my entry for [@torn-and-frayed](https://tmblr.co/mX1ySOX8rMG01H6Rm1dxNkA)’s awesome Songs of Season 2 Tumblr Challenge! The song I chose was Ted Nugent's Stranglehold. This is only my third fanfic so still feeling my way around, so to speak. Apologies in advance for how much it might suck. :P 
> 
> But I did have fun with it!

Sam’s eyes snapped open to the boom of thunder. But a glance out of his window showed a clear night sky and the subdued light of a waning moon. Not a cloud in sight. And the rumbling felt much too close to be outside.

Resolving to investigate the sound, Sam slid out of bed and – slipping on a t-shirt over loose-fitting flannels – padded down the hall towards the stairs. He knew Dean was a couple states over on his way back from a hunt, and that you, their current guest, had chosen to sleep in one of the bunker’s spare bedrooms.

The Winchesters found you during the hunt for a boo hag in North Carolina a couple months back. While you weren’t the first witch they had crossed paths with, you were the first _tempestarii_ they had ever seen. And Dean seemed fairly relieved to find that you were “not a total bitch.” Sam quietly joked that that was a pretty high compliment coming from him. The three of you joined forces, with your special talents for creating and controlling the weather being extremely useful. After bagging the hag, you discovered it was all a diversion from something far more sinister: the murder of your adoptive mother and mentor, Lauren, at the hands of a local coven. 

All because neither of you would join them and their evil devices.

It had been a week since Lauren’s funeral, and you were still reeling from the loss. After taking shelter in the Men of Letters’ bunker, you spent nights poring through the old texts that Lauren left behind. Sam popped in from time to time to make sure you ate and slept, and in turn you would show him the texts and share stories about your life with Lauren. Many of the spells and incantations were hilarious, like the one that (literally) turned cheating spouses into the dirty swine they were. Sam noticed that having these close seemed comforting to you, and he watched as you would try out her spells, sometimes testing them out for the sake of pure amusement, other times out of sheer curiosity.

It wasn’t wrong to say he had taken a liking to the resilient witch. And why not? You were intelligent, funny, tough as nails, and…well, _cute_ was an understatement. More like _stunning, beautiful, radiant_. 

And you with dirt and blood on your clothes after that tussle with the boo hag? Even _that_ was sexier than it should have been. And he’s known his share of badass female hunters.

Yup, Sam had it bad and that ain’t good, especially in a hunter’s lifestyle. But for the time being, who cared? The world could end tomorrow, so they learned to live for each day. Although, in his defense, he hasn't made a move out of respect for you and your situation. No shame in that, right?

He peered through the crack in the bedroom door before pushing through, and froze.

Over the bed, a swirling vortex of menacing black and grey clouds had gathered, with thunder reverberating off the walls. Flashes of lightning set the room alight as rain – _actual rain!_ – fell in a heavy downpour over your sleeping body.

Sam rushed to your bedside, calling your name and trying to shake you awake, but the thunder drowned out his panicked voice and you lay motionless. Quickly he began to peel away your heavy, water-sodden blankets. The rain fell hard and warm, soaking him from head to toe. Even after he removed the last layer, you were still asleep. And, as he soon discovered, completely naked.

He gazed, eyes roaming over your exposed form. It couldn’t be helped. You really are fucking beautiful. All curve and definition, soft skin peppered with primeval glyphs and battle scars. Despite the bat-shit crazy in this scenario, he wanted to kiss every scar, then every part of your body…but this wasn’t mere lust. 

Well, in Sam’s defense, not _just_ that anyway.

It was as he looked to her face that your eyes opened. But those were _not_ your eyes.

They cycled between murky gray and black as pitch from pupil to sclera in a way that matched the chaos above. Your chest rose and fell steadily, with no indication of fear or upset. You hadn’t even blinked. You simply leveled Sam with an unwavering stare.

And then you rose, lifting up slowly from the drenched bed and sitting upright. Sam watched, transfixed. He couldn’t look away as your hand slid up his stomach to his chest before finally stopping to wrap around the back of his neck. Your lips parted slightly as you pulled him in closer. But it wasn’t until you brought your mouth to rest on his that Sam felt a surge of heat that he had never experienced with anyone. He was caught in a hurricane, touching a live wire of energy surging with wild abandon, and he wasn’t about to pull away. 

He kissed you back, taking in the exquisite feel of your full lips and your warmth against his body. There was a tenderness that was alien to him as well, and it was heady. You took the kiss even further, grazing your tongue across his lower lip as if asking for entrance. Delicious shivers traveled up his spine. He craved more, and it took everything in him not to take it.

It was your decision. It was _always_ yours.

By the way your tongue pushed into Sam’s mouth as you climbed into his lap, though, it seemed your mind was made up. So he let you take the lead in this dance.

Breaking the kiss long enough to remove his drenched t-shirt, Sam gripped your waist tightly as you rolled and rocked against him. Your core burned hot through his wet flannels and he ached to be inside. You arched your back and rocked your hips in his lap, which didn’t help his resolve. It did, however give him access to your breasts as he tasted how the rain mingled with your skin. The soft gasps and moans that fell from your lips were sacred as prayers to him, and the downpour was your baptism.  
  
You reached down between your bodies, finding his arousal and freeing it from its heavy restraints. Sam couldn’t swallow the sigh at the feel of your fingers wrapping around him, holding him as you sank slowly down, taking him inch by inch as much as you could handle. 

The storm kicked up as you fell into a rhythm. A maelstrom of kisses, curses, cries, and screams lifted on the wind as they surged and melded and collided in a simultaneous earth-shattering orgasm that made even the heavens tremble and sigh in the aftermath.

Your form began to relax against him and, with a last gentle kiss to his lips, he watched you drift away until you were lying down on your back with closed eyes. A tranquil expression touched your features.

The rain slowed to a light drizzle before it stopped altogether, and the storm clouds dissipated. No more lightning. No more thunder. Just the dim light of the moon through your window and a clear night sky.

Stunned (and thoroughly sated) as Sam was, he scrambled to find towels and one of your oversized shirts. There was no way he was letting you sleep in here until your bed felt less like it had been on the Titanic.

* * *

_“Here I come again now, baby! Like a dog in heat! Tell it’s me by the way now, baby! I like to tap the streets…”_  
  
Sam stirred first to the sound of Dean’s obnoxious singing at the crack of dawn. He scoffed as his big brother shamelessly continued:

 _“Now I’ve been smoking for so looooong, you know I’m here to stay! Got you in a stranglehold, baby! You best get out of the way!”_  
  
He looked down at your sleeping face as you lay on your side. His mind raced with so many thoughts…and several questions.  
  
“You know Sam,” you mumbled sleepily. “You think too loud sometimes. Mostly when you’re troubled by something.”  
  
Sam sighed. “Morning to you, too.”  
  
A corner of your mouth quirked in a smile. “Last night was… _amazing_ , Sam. It was everything I wanted. Exactly what I needed. You have nothing to worry about. Now hit the snooze button on that beautiful mind for a little while and let’s sleep a little longer. I’ll help with cleanup later.”  
  
Sam, for once, couldn’t argue with that.  
  
Yeah, Sam Winchester had it bad and that ain’t good.  
  
But so did you. And you’d sort it out together eventually.  



End file.
